Growing up, I knew I was Native. My family talked about it. We had heirlooms and took part in cultural activities. What we didn’t have was an actual education about American Indian people: our histories or the policies that shaped our lives.
I was born and raised in Great Falls, Mont. My dad and his maternal family are enrolled A’aniiih (Gros Ventre) from the Fort Belknap Indian Reservation; his paternal family is enrolled Anishinaabe (Little Shell Tribe of Chippewa Indians of Montana). Because Great Falls isn’t on a reservation, we’re considered an “urban” Native community.
Montana is a national leader in Native education. In 1972, the state rewrote its constitution to recognize the unique cultural heritage of American Indians and pledged to protect it through education. Nearly 30 years later, the 1999 Indian Education for All Act backed up that promise, and funding followed in 2005. Montana is still the only state with a constitutional guarantee for Indigenous education. Across the country, Indigenous history often gets one lesson a year or none at all.
I graduated high school in 2006 having barely heard American Indian people mentioned in class. In one Montana history course, my teacher explained that the federal government had “given Indians reservation land.” I remember feeling embarrassed, as though tribes should be grateful for something that was never truly a gift. I didn’t understand yet that those reservations existed because tribes had ceded millions of acres to the United States.
I didn’t learn the whole story until college, in Native American studies courses on federal Indian policy and the boarding school era. As an American Indian student, I felt ashamed that I hadn’t know this history sooner. Then I realized something important: I couldn’t have known what I was never taught. And my teachers couldn’t teach what they’d never learned either. That experience shaped the educator I became.
Today, I teach American Indian Studies and work as an Indian Education for All instructional coach, helping educators incorporate Indigenous content into their classrooms and curricula. The lack of Indigenous recognition in schools starts broadly, I’ve learned. At a conference in Chicago, I described my work to another educator. “That’s interesting,” she said.“We don’t have anything like that here.” I asked why. “Because we don’t have any Native Americans in this area,” she replied. “I just don’t see any around.” I asked her one more question: What did she expect Native people and culture to look like, and where did those expectations come from?
One professional development exercise I use to surface bias like hers is simple: a Google Image search. We search images for “Asian Americans,” “Hispanic Americans,” “Black Americans,” “White Americans,” and finally, “Native Americans.” Participants talk through what they would assume about each group if these graphics were their only introduction to it. The difference is striking.
Search “Native Americans” and the results are overwhelmingly historical photographs and paintings. Contemporary people, when represented, are often depicted in powwow regalia, feathers, headdresses, buckskin, or other imagery showing them in a romanticized past. Then I ask two questions: How do these images affect non-Native students? And how do they affect Native students?
Indigenous perspectives belong in classrooms all year and across every subject.
For non-Native students, this limited representation reinforces the idea that Native American people belong to history, not the present. For Native students, it can create a deeply personal message: I know I am Native, but I don’t look like that. Maybe I am not enough. That is why accurate representation matters. It isn’t a nice-to-have.
American Indian history isn’t only a story of devastation and loss. Native nations’ sovereignty predates the United States, and the nations have their own leaders, cultures, and traditions. Native people are also contemporary people: teachers, doctors, artists, scientists, elected officials, parents, students, entrepreneurs, and community leaders. Students deserve to see that whole picture.
Too often, Indigenous content shows up once a year: a worksheet about “Indians,” a paper feather craft project, a discussion of the “First Thanksgiving,” and then teachers return to the standard curriculum. This approach reduces living, diverse nations and cultures to a historical, and often inaccurate, learning activity.
Indigenous perspectives belong in classrooms all year and across every subject. Integrating them into learning spaces doesn’t have to mean building something new. Science students can explore Indigenous traditional ecological knowledge. English and art students can read Native authors and see Native artists’ works. Social studies can cover tribal sovereignty and government. Math, music, and physical education all have Indigenous contributions worth exploring.
None of this needs a separate unit. It just needs to be part of what’s already being taught, brought to life by Native artists, community members, and knowledge keepers. Historical and contemporary issues should be paired with the critical thinking students need to understand multiple perspectives.
And this isn’t only important for Native students. Non-Native students will live, work, learn, and serve alongside Indigenous people. Preparing students for college and careers means preparing them to understand the diverse communities around them. This isn’t about blame or guilt. It’s about telling the whole story, so students can understand and appreciate one another.
Indigenous education isn’t a once-a-year lesson. It isn’t only for Native students and it isn’t only about the past. It is about telling the fuller story, one where Indigenous people are historical and contemporary, singular and diverse. When students see that, they understand the world more accurately. Native students finally get to see themselves reflected with the dignity and authenticity they deserve.
We can never get the full story from just one source. Our job as educators isn’t to tell students what to think. It is to give them enough accurate, honest, and varied information to think for themselves.
